Picking up the pieces
by Lothiriel84
Summary: She knew that she was hurting him – probably as much as she was hurting herself. Yet she couldn't do anything about it. - Inspired by Thompson Square's song "Glass".


**__****Author's note:** _Written for the Paint It Red August 2012 Monthly Challenge. Prompt: "Sine qua non."_

* * *

**Picking up the pieces**

She bit her lip as she heard his footsteps approaching – yet didn't look up when he stopped beside her chair.

"It's half past midnight, honey."

"I know."

He paused slightly. "Won't you come home with me?"

"I have things to do. You can go home if you wish to."

Her eyes never left the report she was reading. Didn't want to acknowledge the sadness that was showing on his face right now.

His footsteps slowly faded away in the darkness of the empty bullpen.

She bit her lip again and went on sorting her paperwork.

In the morning Cho found her fast asleep in her office – her head resting on the files scattered all over her desk.

…

She knew that she was hurting him – probably as much as she was hurting herself.

Yet she couldn't do anything about it.

They'd been married for almost a year now. On their honeymoon he'd asked her if she wanted to have a baby, and she'd said yes.

The months had gone by but no baby had come.

Her fortieth birthday was slowly approaching, and day by day her hopes of getting pregnant were turning fainter.

She hated herself for that.

Jane kept on telling her he didn't mind. She didn't believe him.

He surely deserved a family, and she couldn't give him one.

Another thing to fuel her sense of inferiority.

Angela had been all that she couldn't ever be. The perfect companion to her husband, and the mother of a gorgeous little girl.

_His_ little girl.

She crumpled up the form she was filling and threw it in the dustbin.

Now she would have to write it all over again.

It was going to be another long night.

…

Van Pelt found her sobbing against the bathroom sink after her latest argument with Jane.

He'd just been sitting on her couch, and all of a sudden she'd felt she couldn't stand his sad eyes resting on her for much longer.

She'd shoved him out of her office and then fled to the relative safety of the ladies' restroom.

The younger woman simply wrapped her arms around her shoulders and silently held her.

A pity that there was nothing she could do to help her friends this time.

…

"I'll go inside. Cover me."

Rigsby gazed at her nervously. "It's too dangerous, boss. We'd better wait for backup to come."

"He might shoot the little girl in the meanwhile. I'm not going to sit on my hands and let him kill his daughter."

As she burst in two gunshots echoed in the silence – and Rigsby's heart stopped for a moment as he watched his boss falling to the floor.

Then he opened fire on the deranged man until he crumpled into a heap on the floor as well.

His fingers trembled as he dialed 911 – while the little girl cried her heart out.

She had come through it all unscathed, at the very least.

…

When she came around at long last she found Jane standing over her – his warm eyes never leaving her pale features.

"Don't ever do this to me again, Teresa."

She nodded weakly. "Okay."

"I can't go on without you. If you had died…"

Her fingers reached for his own. "I'm sorry."

She hadn't considered it before, but now she clearly understood that she had no right to throw her life away. Jane needed her – no matter if she couldn't give him the child he wanted.

He kissed her lightly on the brow. "I love you."

"I know. I'm sorry about everything, Patrick. I've been so mean to you…"

"Hush. It's okay. Never mind."

She finally managed a watery smile. "I suppose we could always adopt a kid since we can't have one of our own."

"I guess so – but I think there will be no need for that."

His smirk took her completely by surprise. She frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

He squeezed her hand gently. "Doctors say you're six weeks pregnant. Luckily those bullets didn't cause any serious harm neither to you nor to the baby."

Her eyes widened at such unexpected news. To think that her rashness could have cost not only her life, but also the life of the child she didn't know she was carrying…

A moment later he was cradling her in his arms. "No need to wallow in guilt, darling. The baby is fine – you're both fine."

"Look who's talking about wallowing in guilt…", she joked half-heartedly – her voice still shaky with emotion.

He nuzzled her head affectionately. "Point taken, my love."

They held each other silently for a long while. The tiny life that was growing inside her was such a miracle that they lacked any appropriate words for it.

Perhaps there was no need to talk about it at all.

In nine months they'd be meeting their child. Nothing could ever be more wonderful than waiting for that precious moment.

Together.


End file.
